


ბარტერი

by HaloRocks1214



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Angst, Evil Organizations, Family Feels, Gen, Human Trafficking, Hurt/Comfort, Investigations, Kidnapping, Spies & Secret Agents, Whump, a mafia? a cult? whatever theyre bad people mmkay, creepy comments of sexual nature in chap 2, forays into the awful side of humanity, i make no promises for this fic, im not even sure what id call them, sorry alan everyone needs to have a turn in the pain zone, take from that statement what you will, the 'graphic depictions of violence' doesnt really apply yet but better safe than sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23537896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaloRocks1214/pseuds/HaloRocks1214
Summary: And here they thought getting their father back was the least of their worries.
Comments: 28
Kudos: 26





	1. გატაცებული

“Okay, what’s the dealio?”

Gordon easily skipped around his younger brother with a slightly faux-naive voice. They were currently out in the field, damn tsunamis not being picked up by the D.A.R.T. soon enough, and while Gordon knew better than to talk about personal things during a rescue, it was the first time in a while he even had the _chance_ to talk to Alan.

Who was currently more forlorn than Gordon was aware he could be if the way he watched his toes kick whatever small rock they strutted past was any indication. It took a moment for Alan to register his older brother’s question, but when he did, he blinked a few times before looking at Gordon with a raised eyebrow, “What?”

Gordon was going to play this slyly. Treat it as banter, not an interrogation. Gordon idly leaned over and picked up a stick. He started to twirl it, never meeting Alan’s gaze directly, “I don’t know, you seem off. Just wanted to see if it was anything I could help with.”

Alan went back to kicking the pebbles, shrugging his shoulders in a way that said ‘this _was_ a big deal but I don’t want you to know that’, “Oh, sorry, just tired. It’s not my fault I was having a wonderful nap in the closet only for John to make me tumble out of it due to the alarms. The fact that we’ve been out here for God knows how many hours doesn’t help.”

Gordon’s chuckles at that statement were slightly fake. Alan was hiding something, and if Gordon had to imitate Scott, well, then it was only Alan’s fault, “Yeah-huh. Sounds good.” He focused on the stick, pretending it was a wand and waving it around as such, “Decided on a college yet?”

Alan still didn’t look up, and Gordon could hear the noises of rocks getting kicked and traveling a foot or two. Alan answered him monotonously, “Uh, not really. I’ve narrowed it down to three. I haven’t brought them up with anyone other than Grandma though since the last thing I want to do is create a World War between our older brothers about which one is better.”

Gordon snorted but then got serious again. Dammit, Gordon, you are not letting him worm his way out of this. Again, “If I promise Scout’s Honor will you tell _me_ them?” He cheekily grinned at Alan, which got a small smile out of the younger brother. Nice, getting closer. Now Gordon was doing that rubber pencil trick with the stick, way more immersed with the visual illusion than he probably should be, “Hmm, is it girl trouble?”

Alan rolled his eyes, but Gordon could tell he was getting annoyed, which meant the older brother was getting close. Alan kept his facade up, crunching a stick underneath his feet as he started walking just a little faster, “If you mean ‘Kayo chased me for accidentally spilling paint on Shadow’s nose’ then yes, I’m having lots of girl trouble.”

Gordon winced wholeheartedly and sympathetically. He remembered when he accidentally tripped and spilled water all over the front of her one night. He wasn’t aware she was a fan of throwing them into the pool just as much as he was until that night. It was in annoyance, but still, Gordon considered it a similar hobby between them regardless, “Yeesh, sorry for bringing up traumatizing memories bro.” Squinting at the stick he was playing with, he put it over his lips like a faux-mustache, lightbulb dinging in his brain with joyful glee, “Boy trouble?”

Alan groaned at started walking way faster than Gordon. Once he was about three feet away from Gordon, he shouted while still facing forward so Gordon could hear him, “Oh my _god,_ let it _go,_ Gordon!”

Bingo, Gordon thought he hit the jackpot. Throwing the stick away and keeping his distance from Alan, his grin went ear to ear with excitement at what he thought was figuring it out, “Oh man, okay, wait, hang on, is it that Bear kid? The one Scott rescued for the umpteenth time last week? Or, wait, didn’t Conrad visit you up at ‘Five two weeks ago during your rotation?” Giggling, Gordon rubbed his hands together mischievously, “Allie, how dare you. Romantic or not, it’s my job to help you out with these things--”

Suddenly and abruptly, and shutting Gordon up, Alan turned around and glared at Gordon while his fists were haphazardly clenched at his hips, “Fine, Mr. Nosey, you wanna know? It’s about _Dad,_ okay?!”

Well, there went any ability to joke in this situation. Gordon lost his smile completely and stared mindlessly at his younger brother, who was breathing heavily and still glaring, but Gordon could tell there was a hint of anxiety behind his eyes.

Dad had been back for about two-and-a-half months now, and the Tracy family seemed to be settling into a new routine with him. Everyone was happy Jeff was back in one piece, none more so than Jeff than himself. They quickly figured out how to slowly integrate him back, starting with daily chores, reaching him having permission to help out with IR, and now they were getting ready to reintroduce him back into Tracy Industries.

The anxiety in Alan’s features was suddenly all Gordon could see in them, followed by Alan shaking his head and turning back around, “Shit-- forget I said anything, that’s not why--”

Before he could even think, Gordon shot his arm out to grab Alan by the wrist, his amber eyes wide with careful thought. He needed to think these words through. The idea that Alan was _nervous_ regarding talking about his own _dad_ was... “Allie… I know you didn’t have as much… _time_ with him, but he’s your father too. You don’t have to _hide_ any opinion about him for me, for us.”

Alan still wasn’t looking at Gordon, but the older brother definitely saw the tiny and hidden flinch the younger brother made at _your father too._ Gordon barely held back the sharp inhale he wanted to make. Okay, that was an entire suitcase, one he, unfortunately, couldn’t unpack right now (as much as he loathed to admit it that was a Scooter problem), so he focused the first problem he figured out, “Allie, are you upset Dad is back or?...”

 _That_ got Alan to turn around, “No! _Jesus,_ Gordon, _of course,_ I’m happy he’s back. The only reason I graduated right before we left was that Scott and John both told me to go _do_ something while we waited because “the way you’re bouncing on your toes is going to burn a hole in the ground and Grandma won’t like that,” remember? I’m _ecstatic_ he’s alive and back home.”

Letting Alan gently go, Gordon took a deep breath to reorganize his thoughts, “Okay, then what about Dad has got you so worked up?”

Alan was suddenly much younger than the fresh, getting-ready-to-go-to-college, young man Gordon saw this morning, “You remember that argument between Scotty and Dad, right? The one about five weeks ago that we shouldn’t have listened in on but did anyway?”

Gordon flinched, not wanting to remember _that_ argument. 

The two have made up since then, but it was a shock to just about everybody on the island, including John and Virgil, who the blondes nervously told the morning after so they could get _some_ kind of reassurance the world wasn’t ending. In the Tracys’ quest to have their Fairytale Happily Ever After, it never occurred to them that their father might not _like_ how they were running things. 

Scott made a decision that didn’t sit well with the older man, and he let his son know that in tactless, Jeff Tracy fashion. Scott’s decision wasn’t the best per se, certainly not the worst, but he could’ve waited for some better options, but Jeff couldn’t just _say_ that outright, that he was concerned about his son taking risks like that. He had to immediately jump to the idea that Scott’s leadership might be lacking suddenly.

It also didn’t help that Scott couldn’t just fucking say that, while he was sorry for being slightly rash, he didn’t like being undermined after years of successful leadership. He went straight for the fact that Jeff had been gone for the past eight years. Scott didn’t blame the man for it, God no, but the insinuation that Jeff wasn’t any better than Scott because of it stung everyone in the room. Because being reminded of the fact that Dad was technically a _dead man_ for a big portion of all of their lives wasn’t bad enough.

Gordon forgot that Scott could be too much like Jeff for his own fucking good, as well as the fact that Scott did get it from _Jeff Tracy_ of all people. 

Adult men Gordon’s ass, two old and stubborn as hell mules more like it.

They were both stuck on the fact that now there might have to be _challenges of authority,_ and frankly, now that the oldest outside of Grandma put that idea on the table, it bothered everyone else _barely_ more than those two _combined._

Jeff apologized for how he acted after Grandma ripped him a new one, and Scott apologized for jumping the gun a little bit too (after Grandma yelled at him as well), but there was no promising _no_ second fight, least of all one like _that._

It was a little like being a kid and watching Mommy and Daddy fight for the first time.

Long story short: it sucked ass.

Alan took a shuddery breath and brought Gordon down from that memory. Alan then proceeded to wrap his arms around himself, rubbing up and down in a weak attempt to ground himself, “I just… what if he had all these ideas about me while he was up there, and what if I’m completely different from those ideas and it _disappoints_ him?”

Oh, sweet Jiminy Cricket. 

What the hell was Gordon to say to that? Jeff was a loving a supportive father, more so than others. Gordon remembered all of his swim meets and such for a good reason, so his first response to that statement was easily _of course he would be proud of you!_

But there was an ever so tiny thing that grabbed Gordon’s tongue from saying that outright. It was honestly minor, so he wasn’t sure why it kept hitting him like a fucking truck.

Eight. Years.

Jeff Tracy was a remarkable man, and even more remarkable father, but _nobody_ spent eight years in isolation, let alone spent it thousands of miles up in space, _without_ it having some kind of consequence. Jeff would never outright disown his sons for anything as long as it wasn’t illegal or got themselves or others hurt, but he was human, and he had preferences just like the rest of them had.

So, disappointed? Hell no. But potentially shocked and uninterested? Less supportive than other endeavors? Gordon loved his father, but he had to admit that he was at a loss. There weren’t _Dead Men for Dummies_ books anywhere, and it sucked to say it, but Jeff _was_ different. _They_ were different, and the only way they would know how this Jeff reacted to things would be an in-the-moment experience, and if Scott’s and his argument was the first concrete example they had...

With how different Gordon was to the rest of his family, he always worried that he would never fully fit in. When Jeff came back he was excited just as much as Alan, as the rest of his family, but Gordon was always worried about his dad the most. He cheered him on at his swim meets, sure, but Gordon was always keenly aware of how the man, outside of taking him to and from them and, well, cheering, lots and _lots_ of cheering, never really asked more than _How did it go, sport?_

Gordon wanted to be the only Tracy with that fear. It sucked, but in the end, his family always came through even if they weren’t aware of his anxieties. Now that _Alan_ has them, over his _father_ no less…

That just brings them right back around to the start: Gordon would be lying to himself if he knew what Jeff thought of _him,_ let alone Alan.

Alan was a perceptive person, and if Gordon lied to himself, Alan would see that and know Gordon was lying to him as well, and that would very easily make the situation worse.

However, before Gordon had any chance to say _something,_ words pulled from his ass or otherwise, anything to ease his baby brother’s low thoughts, footsteps rustled in the distance, causing the two blondes to snap their heads to look to the side. What they saw were two men, one larger and older, another younger and seemingly out of his comfort zone, in a sense. Gordon was going to chalk it up to ‘being a rescuee after a tsunami’, but his squid senses were tingling, and he felt himself easily go slightly taut.

The younger stranger blinked a few times before snapping his head up to look at the two IR Operatives in front of him. His eyes lit up, and Gordon suspected it wasn’t because he was about to be rescued.

“Oh, shit, these guys are _young._ How much do you think they would sell for?”

And just like that, Gordon’s gut twisted into a killer pretzel and was dropped off a five-story building. This had to be a joke, _had_ to be. These kinds of people were only supposed to exist in horror stories. In the dark parts of the internet that are mainly regarded as myths, created to scar the poor children who snuck onto their parents’ laptop without permission. Even if they _were_ real, Gordon and Alan couldn’t have had that bad of luck to--

“Remember what we said about famous people? Forget the ages, these guys are _International Rescue._ Most clients will throw physicality to the wind if something famous is involved.”

Gordon also thought that your pupil shrinking to the size of the tip of a needle when you’re terrified was a myth, but as the blood completely drained from his face and left him white as a sheet, he had to concede he was wrong about multiple things tonight. 

_Holy hand grenade in a fucking handbasket._

The state of shock his body was forcing him to enter was bad, like, shock-blankets-are-required level bad, but trembles from a different body right next to him snapped him back into attention.

Alan was trembling, his grip on Gordon’s arm so tight that the older brother wouldn’t be surprised to find bruises when his outfit was finally taken off. There was only a marginal amount more color compared to Gordon behind those freckles, and Gordon couldn’t tell if his brother’s pupils were any smaller with the way the kid was flicking them around like crazy, “Wha-- what are they talking about?”

_Ah, shock was one hell of a bitch._

Alan was 18 years of age, an adult. He flew a rocket into space for a part-time job. He also lived on an island where he was mainly homeschooled and was soon to be off at some kind of college (maybe even online classes). As embarrassing as it could be, his family wasn’t going to be the puritan fam that shoved the mere thought of _sex_ to the sidelines. Alan had four older brothers who spent a _significant_ amount of time on the mainland around other people more than the youngest could ever dream of. Most time of which was spent in their respective high schools (or Olympics fields, ‘cause Gordon wasn’t exactly of age when he still had school over there) with hot girls and boys-- similar hobbies or not-- that had the same level of hormones flying about.

They _knew_ things and weren’t afraid to answer any question Alan had.

Also, Alan had a _huge_ internet hobby; video games, browsing social media, you name it. The kid’s probably heard stories that would give Scott hernias for days. Alan had to have stumbled across the topic of _human trafficking_ somewhere, whether it was the plot of a teen-rated video game or something as simple as a news article. At the end of the day, this kind of thing was something everyone was subconsciously aware of, but you didn’t think about it because A, it was _awful,_ and B, more often than not, it didn’t happen to _you._

But the way Alan stared at Gordon like the prankster held the stars in his palms-- as if he could snap his fingers and bring them to safety in the blink of an eye reminded Gordon that Alan was always a little bit more sheltered than any of them could help it. Alan was one of the last things their mother gave them, and the way John and he essentially became her just split into two people hurt more than any of them would be willing to admit. 

Alan knew the horrors of the world firsthand, but he never had to fully grasp it because his older brothers would be there to shoulder it for him. 

_Always._

Like hell Gordon was going to drop that tradition today.

“Alan, _run._ ”

With a shove and a half, Gordon ripped his little brother’s hand from his upper arm and sent him in the other direction. Gordon also ripped his own heart in half as he ignored the somewhat naive cry of _Gordon!_ as it got quieter and quieter. Despite the guilt, Alan listened and booked it. Like a baby calf being told to run away from starving lions while the mom stayed behind to protect it. Gordon, mostly satisfied that his bro was safe, turned around and swallowed the bile that was rising in his throat.

He was hoping his glare could be as scary as Scott’s or even Virgil’s, but the way the creepy strangers just chuckled as if the threat he posed was no bigger than a tiny kitten filled Gordon with both anger and fear. They knew he was from IR. If they weren’t scared of him, what did that mean they were prepared for?

The older man stated an order, one that had Gordon’s blood run cold, “Go after the other. I got this one.”

Gordon got out half an angry “Hey!” before the man that spoke suddenly charged at him. On reflex, Gordon put himself into a fighting stance and prevented both of them from toppling over. He hardly considered it a victory, though, as the other guy who was ordered to run after Gordon’s baby brother was gone and out of sight before Gordon could even look up after nearly having the wind knocked out of him.

Gritting his teeth and shoving the man off of him, bringing his arms up and curling his fists with a glare brighter than his hair, the only plan he could go with was the one where he took this guy down as quickly as possible. Right now, the only solace Gordon had was the fact that his brother was a quick puppy. He didn’t only need ‘Three to move at the speed of light.

_C’mon, Alan, show me why Track was worth it._

Focusing completely on his enemy, Gordon figured the man was intentionally slimy with his words, as the only thing he did in response to Gordon tensing like a cornered animal was to chuckle in cold amusement, “You’re a wily one, they’ll like that.”

Don’t throw up don’t throw up don’t throw up don’t--

Gordon reinstigated the fight with a snarl, landing a punch that didn’t cause as much damage as he wanted, but it was enough for him to gain a slight upper hand. The man wasn’t thrown off balance, nor did he majorly flinch back from the recoil, but he did understand that he had to play more defensively. It was like two stubborn stallions fighting over the mare in the area. 

One young and smaller and quicker, his age not a roadblock but an easy strength. If he hit just right his opponent would topple over as quickly as he could throw his fists. The older one, however, was still larger, and while he might have been slower and less agile, his age allowed more wisdom and understanding. He’s probably seen (and kidnapped) many like Gordon, so he knew exactly how to play him like a damn fiddle.

It was hard to say who would win until one of them was either running for the hills, beaten and bloody, or _dead_ at the victor’s feet.

Gordon wasn’t sure how long they went at it, but he knew it was longer than he liked.

He was somehow barely winning it regardless, and he was fully prepared to give Penny a big heckin smooch for the lessons that were currently saving his life, but even with her endless knowledge and background, she couldn’t prepare Gordon for dirty tactics. Stallions fighting over mares usually just involve _two_ of them. 

Right as Gordon was able to grab the man’s arms and wring them around his back, a magical _third_ person appeared, different to the second one that went after Alan, like a freaking wizard with his own magic wand.

Which was also known as a cattle prod to most.

The pokey object was jabbed into his side. Fire filled his body, making him scream out in pain. Gordon remembered when he and Virgil messed with one back on the farm as kids and how they learned their lesson the hard way. He was hoping to never “learn” it again. Yet as a couple thousand volts flared throughout his abdomen, even with the suit, he had to relent and let go of his makeshift hostage. His body was on autopilot and it said _get away from source of burning pain._

His body tried, oh, it tried, but what was previously his prisoner managed to stand in the blink of an eye and swing a fist into the side that wasn’t being tortured by an agricultural device. With another short, cut off scream, Gordon fell over onto his ass. His wheezes were brutal, the air not wanting to come back into his body despite itself. At this point, the logical part of his brain was telling him he wasn’t going to get away and he should save his energy to withstand whatever these people were going to do to him, but as always, the emotional part was overriding everything.

 _Shit, guys, help! Scotty, Virg,_ Dad--

He turned around to be on his hands and knees and scrambled to try and run as Alan did. He might be faster in the water than on land, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t one quick son of a bitch when he wanted to be. It was enough for his gym classes, it was enough when he needed to run away after a successful prank, it was enough when his grandma needed a new test subject...

But it wasn’t enough here.

The cattle prod was shoved into the back of his neck, and with it came darkness and a growing sense of dread.

_Please, Mom, get Allie to our family._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: man why do so many people whump gordon what's the catch
> 
> me after doing just that: o h. i see it now
> 
> (real notes: my mood as been real iffy lately and considering all my other fics and shit i have to do there is no concrete upload schedule for this (or even the idea that this will eventually become a finished fic sooooo), however, considering this is the first WIP ive been able to touch in like two weeks (and the fact that im actually really proud of this) its getting posted. hope yall enjoy my latest foray into the 'beat up the Tracys in god awful ways that im not even remotely sorry over')
> 
> please let me know of any glaring typos! criticism is okay as long as it comes from a place of respect~
> 
> If you wish to scream at me here's my [tumblr](https://halorocks1214.tumblr.com/)  
> please feel free to check out [my ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/halorocks1214) as well if you'd like


	2. უბედურება

He hated it he hated it he hated it hated it he hated it--

Okay, Alan hated a lot of things about this moment right now, so he should probably be more specific. He hated those men, he hated leaving Gordon, he hated how his lungs were trying to heave themselves out of his chest with the way he was running, he hated how there were so many obstacles in his path that it was slowing him down, he hated how he was effectively alone--

Wait, no he wasn’t, the comms! He never turned them back on! No wonder John always told him not to panic, it made him do stupid stuff like that! Not breaking his stride, Alan pulled up his wrist and tried doing just that, but before he could even squeak, a hand came around to the front of his face, essentially muffling him and holding him in one spot.

Okay now this was just straight _awful._ Bringing his hands up to try and get the stranger’s _singular_ one off his face, Alan bucked and kicked his legs around like a cornered horse, anything to break free from this terrible grip. Jesus, wasn’t this man the _smaller_ one? And he was still able to pick Alan straight up off the ground?! Just what do these guys _eat?_

Gross and creepy chuckling filled Alan’s ear, somewhat freezing his attempts at escaping. He was still struggling and twitching, but for some reason, his dumb brain was trying to get him to hear whatever this man was going to say, “Ooh, you’re quite the squirmer, aren’t ya? I suppose that’s not a bad thing with those freckles and all. Quite a few clients dig the young thing. The baby fat’s a nice touch, too.” As if those words could be any worse, the man used his free hand to pinch Alan’s cheek right after he finished talking. 

Alan _keened._ He knew his whining was high pitched to begin with, but the noises that came from his mouth were on some kind of level only dogs could hear. Tears started pouring out of his eyes like molten lava, meanwhile, his incessant kicking started up again. This time, it got somewhat literal and kicked up a few notches. Swivels started being involved, and amidst his panic, Alan found it in his brain to try and aim his feet. Any hit landing would be _stellar._

But as the Tracy Family Luck would have it, nothing seemed to be working. It didn’t help that the man’s creepy chuckles just seemed to get louder as more time went on. For a split second, Alan felt the man move about an inch as if he were about to drag Alan away to whatever torturous situation he had dreamed up for the blonde. Alan wasn’t aware hope could die in the blink of an eye like that.

But then they both stopped simultaneously.

The rather loud snapping of a tree branch from a few feet away made both men swivel their heads in the direction of the noise. Alan was shocked by how much he could turn with how his neck was essentially trapped.

Alan felt both relief and anxiety wash over him because that was _Virgil_ coming through the bushes to see what exactly his youngest brother had been getting up to. But that’s also where the anxiety was coming from as _well._ There were very few ways this was ending, and even less of those endings _didn’t_ involve blood.

“Alright, the two of you have been completely dead on the comms for the past 10 minutes and I don’t know which older person in our family I want to deal with less at the moment. You better have a good expla--”

Virgil looked up from watching his steps to see that it very much _wasn’t_ Gordon with their baby brother. It was a random man, which his in-the-middle-of-a-job brain was going to write off as a person Alan saved while Gordon went off to save others, but then he blinked once. Then twice. Then he had to fight the urge to rub his eyes with fists like a scene from a cartoon because he had to let go and realize that _yup, what he was seeing was real._

And he fucking despised it.

Because this random, strange man was holding Alan as if his kid bro were random cargo and _not_ a person. His big, sweaty hand wrapped around Alan’s mouth wouldn’t be as incriminating (and it already was a thousand times) if Alan didn’t have giant, blatant _tear tracks_ running down over them. Meaning the hand was there _before_ Alan started crying. Meaning this man was the cause of his brother’s distress.

Virgil’s pupils shrunk (man, that’s a reoccurring theme tonight), and while Alan was scared before, right now, he was _terrified._

The floodgates were opened, and Alan was hoping that the damage the metaphorical water created wouldn’t be anything close to the mess the literal tsunami they were cleaning up caused.

\---

Virgil was the least violent person in their family.

That’s not to say his _thoughts_ weren’t. Believe him, if you pissed him off the right way he could come up with some pretty beautiful imagery as a form of therapy, but what made him different is that he channeled that anger into something productive and helpful. He didn’t quietly carry out revenge plots like John or threw punches like Scott.

But right now, any kind of breathing exercise was out the door the minute his brain registered the scene. The way the man was gleaming at his brother like he was freshly cut meat was _sickening_ and Virgil was literally willing to resort to a bloody killing to make it stop. What filled him wasn’t anger, nor was it fiery rage.

No, it was red hot, _animalistic_ fury and God help the person who was able to make Virgil come even _close_ to that.

It must have somehow displayed itself. Maybe it was the way Virgil’s eyes zoned in on the man, maybe it was his fists clenching so hard his fingers might break, maybe it was the way his breathing became ragged and dangerous, maybe it was Virgil’s sheer size alone; whatever it was, it made the man’s giddy look drop off his face at the speed of light into pure, unbridled terror.

Good, now he saw how Alan was feeling.

As soon as Virgil saw the man release his hold on Alan to try and run, the middle Tracy _moved._

The man wanted to leave very suddenly, huge money-load or not. Sure, it would be a big loss to let go of such a highly well-known person (one that was so _young_ too), but if it meant he wouldn’t be folded in a way that was akin to an origami project, then the man was willing to drop everything and run. He let go of the target, turned around and took about 2 and a half steps before--

The man yelped as he felt himself be grabbed and aggressively shoved into a tree, head bouncing off of it because of momentum. With a groan, he opened his eyes and cried out in fear. Right in front of him was that other IR member. The giant one with muscles as big as steel and probably has the ability to bench press a small herd of bison. He couldn’t help the trembles that were overtaking him, and he was hoping he would at least be alive long enough to go change into a new pair of pants.

“ _What,_ ” the IR member growled out, “the _hell,_ do you think you’re _doing?_ ”

His sputters were weak and laughable, but maybe they would convince the IR member to take pity, “W-W-What? C’ mon, man, I know it looks bad, and yeah, m-maybe you’re coworkers, but, like, als-so relent a little b-bit. He’s cute, n-no?”

A millisecond of silence. Suddenly, Virgil pushed his arms into the man even more, dangerously close to ‘be careful, he might not be able to breathe’ territory, “You’re _sick._ ”

The man, in all of his panicked glory, felt the blood rush to his head and greatly affect his mouth. He was never good at tact, “H-Hey! Don’t kn-knock it till you t-try it.”

Before Virgil could even start to think, his fist moved and collided directly in the man’s face and nose. He's sparred with Kayo. He knew how to _hurt._ With a step backward, he watched with satisfaction as the man, who was now out cold, slid uncomfortably down the tree. The sight put a grin on Virgil’s face. It was the least he deserved: a crick in his neck.

Now then, this man clearly couldn’t be left to just wake up and go home. He was a menace, and Virgil would hate himself for leaving such a dangerous thing on the streets. The only problem the Tracy couldn’t figure out was that he wasn’t sure where he would put him on ‘Two. It wasn’t anywhere near his brothers, that’s for sure. As Virgil pulled out some spare rope he managed to just have on him (thank God for small coincidences), his mind gleefully became playful. Yes, the roof of his girl would be a fitting seat for his kind. Right as he finished tying one of the strongest knots he knew, he heard a small, quiet, and scared voice speak up from a few feet away.

“Is he, uh, going to wake up soon?”

Oh fuck. Well, any anger or rage left his body like a gust of wind. 

Letting the man’s tied up hands fall from his grasp, Virgil snapped his head up to look directly at Alan as if his younger brother caught Virgil with his hand in the cookie jar. ‘Deer in the headlights’ was a good way of describing Virgil, actually. His eyes were wide and his pupils were small once more, but that was because he was suddenly panicking over what exactly all of this entailed.

Because Alan was as far away as he could be from the man but close enough to be able to see Virgil and what the brother was doing to said stranger. Alan was desperately trying to seem like he was holding it together, but the way he held his arms around himself, and the thin sheen of sweat covering his face, Virgil thought he wasn’t succeeding as much as he wanted. A little bit of color had returned, at least, it _looked_ like that, compared to how Alan was when he was being held by his captor. Not to mention the now-drying tear tracks...

Was that Virgil’s breath that was extremely heavy and labored? You know, maybe he should stop doing that. Taking a deep breath, Virgil stood up one knee at a time and carefully walked over to his younger brother. It broke his heart to see how Alan tensed up, so Virgil slowed his strides and re-thought out his plan for when he got close enough to touch his younger brother.

About a foot away from Alan, Virgil held his hands up like he was coaching a frightened animal, staring into those gigantic baby blue eyes as if this were ten years ago and Virgil was comforting a brother that just had a nightmare, not a brother that was nearly… God, he doesn’t even want to think that thought to himself, “Hey. Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”

Keep it specific, give the shock victim something to focus on. Alan took a moment to register Virgil’s words before taking a deep breath and relaxing ever so slightly, “N-No, he just… startled me. I’ve never…” Alan closed his eyes and shuddered, the awful memory from just minutes ago washing over him like toxic waste.

Virgil’s hesitation was next to none as he stepped forward and practically engulfed his brother in his large frame. If not for Alan, at least for himself, because his own shock was just about kicking in, adrenaline wearing off at the speed of ‘One. _Jesus, that was close._ Jesus, _that was close._ If Virgil hadn’t shown up at that moment, just a few seconds later…

After a moment of flinching (that Virgil didn’t notice, thank God), Alan eventually melted into his Virgil’s embrace wholeheartedly. Part of him was still tense, his body still not completely sure that the danger was gone, but boy did that not matter while his older brother was here. Heh, older brothers, Scott was going to freak about this, John probably wouldn’t be much better…

Oh, oh _shit-_

Virgil couldn’t stop the eyebrow raise, followed by his utter surprise when Alan suddenly shot out of his arms and started waving his own almost like a drowning man would. Virgil was very concerned over why Alan was getting worked up again, but before he could even say ‘what’ in ‘what’s wrong’, Alan practically read his mind.

“Gordon! Virge, oh my God, they have Gor-”

There wasn’t much explanation needed after that.

Except there was a little bit, mainly for Virgil’s sake. Alan’s panic was overtaking a lot of his common sense, and the last thing Virgil was going to let happen was Alan getting near any of these people, not even with 10 feet between them. So with Alan’s promise that he won’t leave Virgil’s side at all, no more than a foot at most, they both hoofed it back to where Alan last saw Gordon.

Virgil was about to put a leash on the kid with how much he was jumping out of his skin, but eventually, they were there, and Virgil regrets his whole _just because you left Gordon doesn’t mean he was taken_ speech he gave to consol Alan, because the spot he led them to had nothing but a semi-ripped up, familiar yellow sash on the ground.

Alan’s grip on Virgil’s arm was better than a tourniquet they’ve ever used. At least Virgil won’t have to worry about him running off anymore.

Lifting his wrist so he could contact everyone else, Virgil could feel the blood drain from his face just like Alan’s.

“International Rescue, we… _shit,_ John, we’ve gotta big problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: i cant exactly remember how much the public is aware of IR's relations to one another in the TAG-verse (im 70-80% sure that the world knows its the Tracy family that runs it?), but there will be a reason for the man's unaware-ness about them being brothers very very soon, one that works regardless of what canon has established
> 
> personal note: I BE ALIVE. BARELY. BUT I AM ALIVE. my motivation levels are still dead to hell and back, especially for my other Big Fics atm, but my brain decided to hardwire itself all of a sudden for this one and i was able to squirm something out. no promises for consistent uploads just yet because A.) aforementioned “dead inside” ness and B.) college is starting in two weeks and im Very Excite!!!! hope you enjoy this update regardless!
> 
> please let me know of any glaring typos as i don't have a beta!!!
> 
> If you wish to scream at me here's my [tumblr](https://halorocks1214.tumblr.com/)  
> please feel free to check out [my ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/halorocks1214) as well if you'd like


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